We said goodbye to our apartment and boarded the fast train to Madrid. It has the same maximum speed as the Amtrak Acela, but it travels at that speed for far longer. Nevertheless, it was an excellent way to see the Spanish countryside, and it was relatively comfortable.
Before our plans for Madrid changed, I thought we would only be staying in Madrid for a single evening. Because of that fact, I decided to splurge, and I booked us a room at the CoolRooms Palacio de Atocha. It is a very fancy hotel that I ended up sleeping in for 3 nights. It had turn down service every night, which I am a complete sucker for. I loved it and its location.
After we ditched our bags, we decided to take a long walk to a restaurant. The 4-kilometer walk cut us through some of the busiest areas of Madrid, and there were throngs of people out and about. Things are getting back to normal in Philly, but we are not there altogether. Center City is still sleepy during the workday. This was a return to the pulsing energy of a city. Madrid, like Seville, is very pedestrian-friendly, and there are enormous boulevards without a single car. I know that COVID-19 is still here, and I know I was putting myself in riskier situations than I have been, but it was so lovely to feel the energy of the crowds.
We had lunch at a lovely place called La MaMá Restaurante, and it was easily the best meal of our entire trip. We ordered their tasting menu, and it was delightful. We had:
- Artichoke soup.
- Russian salad, pea cream, bluefin tuna
- White artichokes from Tudela
- Prawns, crispy wonton, crudités, and Japanese brava sauce
- Galician free-range egg, potato, truffle, and seasonal mushroom
- Red tuna Thunnus Thynnus, roasted pepper, and piquillo peppers
- Pork sirloin, pumpkin, and red curry
- Brownie
After lunch, we decided to check out Madrid’s most famous park, El Retiro. It’s massive, and it was teeming with people. We used the stroll as a moment to reflect on the vacation and really enjoy the last few hours before Sam had to leave. The sun was out, the air was crisp, and the park had a handful of musicians playing for money. It was a great foundation on which to build a fond memory.
That evening we walked to the Royal Palace of Madrid, past the opera house (where people thought the king was in attendance), and into the bustling Puerta del Sol. Here we came across an anti-racism protest. I’ve been to my fair share of demonstrations over the years, including those in the last 18 months. But, there is something special about a protest in another country in another language. It’s a reminder that we are in one movement, that we’re in it together, and we will outlast every villain that comes before us. Madrid is alive and hopping on a Saturday evening.
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